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The Corellian League Back Story - Chapter One - Part 5
During this pivotal time for the Jedi dissenters, as they seek out allies, information and a means to sustain their efforts, others are arriving on Corellia. The first is a mysterious figure, known as Kell Malo a Jedi long since expelled from the order, returning from a great pilgrimage. Having seen a great many things and mastering skills foreign to many Jedi, Kell has returned home upon receiving the troubling news of the plight that has befallen his planet and home of Coronet City. Contracting work with private security forces and aiding small bands of freedom forces, Kell begins to hear word of a more organized uprising and the Jedi Consular spurring its initiatives. From a wildly disparate background yet on a converging road, another potential ally enters the scene. Life as a smuggler is never one of ease and lackadaisical comfort. The Great Galactic War had created both opportunity and hardship for the likes of Quyn Vigil. A young woman and smuggler, Quyn had grown up on Corellia and plied her trade amongst the Five Brothers. And while some might liken a smuggler to a common criminal, an often-fair assessment, there were those within the trade who clung to principles. The ever-present Sith influence after the signing of the Treaty of Coruscant was not only bad for business but also a personal affront to the place Quyn called home. She travels to the underside of Coronet in search of contracts that could turn credits and bring trouble to the Imperials. It was then that her path crossed with that of a shadowy Jedi hunting much the same prey. Quyn Vigil stood beneath the obnoxious façade of the watering hole, a hive of scum and villainy known as Unknown Odds. From within the deep shadows beneath the cowl of her cloak, the very young, yet very accomplished smuggler surveyed the scene within. Through recognition optics hand built into her sensory amplification headgear, Quyn assessed the light dissipation, profiled several of the patrons, and measured up her tactical options. Stepping through the threshold, Quyn was smothered in the warm embrace of hot, sticky air choked by smoke and the smell of illicit compounds. The pounding music throbbed in her ears, but she was able to tune her audible perception to a lower frequency. She cut a swath through the milling inebriates, drunken rabble, and purveyors of flesh and contraband toward the bar. She had profiled her target quickly upon entering the Unknown Odds, an obese and oily looking Toydarian drowning himself in a tankard as big as his head at the bar. Skirting up next to him, Quyn slid into the empty stool beside the Toydarian and flicked a few fingers toward the bartender. A thin cylinder glass filled with blue liquid was clapped down on the cold steel of the bar, and she raised it to her nose. Giving the drink a few cautionary whiffs, she waited for the sensory gear to return an analysis of the liquid. Approval chimed in her ear and she swallowed the alcohol in single swig. Quyn hissed and slammed the glass down on the table. “I like a lady who can drink,” the Toydarian slurred through his heavy accent, breath as obnoxious as his general reek. “You should be careful in a place like this.” Quyn smirked under the cowl. “You must be mistaking me for someone else,” she responded, voice unmistakably feminine yet tone sharpened to a razor’s edge. A click sounded from beneath her cloak, followed by the telltale whir of a blaster activating. “You can keep your stink and your charm to yourself, Traek.” The Toydarian bristled at the sound of the weapon and the utterance of his name. His little wings flapped in irritation, and he tapped the bar incessantly with his few, clawed digits. “Women and blasters don’t mix,” Traek muttered at last, taking another gulp from his large tankard. “Whatta you want?” “Information,” Quyn intoned, cold as ice. The Toydarian rolled his big eyes. “Of course. Why else you want to see Traek?” “Exactly.” She nudged the blaster toward the alien, the bulge from the barrel becoming obvious beneath her cloak. “I’m trying to locate a Jedi…Noval Colton.” “Dead,” Traek said in a perfunctory manner followed by an inconsequential shrug of his shoulders. Disappointment burst in Quyn’s chest, and her mind quickly wheeled about and prepared for an alternate line of questions. But it was then that she sensed something, a tingle in the dark recesses of her mind. A sensation she deemed intuition, it warned here that a Force wielder was close. Her sensor gear scanned the bar rapidly but could discern no unusual activity. The Toydarian’s words barely registered in her ears. “You made mistake coming here,” Traek said with a glower, a vibro-blade extending against her gut. “This is my place.” Even with the threat looming so close, weapon pressed against her, Quyn was still focused on the echoing waves of the Force somewhere nearby. She pulled back her hood, twin braids of shimmering brown hair highlighted with fiery streaks of red falling past her shoulders. Her pale skin shimmered under the neon lights of the bar, and a pair of vibrant green eyes darted about her surroundings. “Pretty thing,” Traek lusted, free hand prodding at the droopy end of his big nose. “But too dangerous to be left alive.” There was a sudden flash of movement, and lights, sounds and movement within the bar slowed to a crawl around the smuggler. Almost appearing out of nowhere, a tall well-built man in black robes and Force battle armor, leaped to her side. His face was obscured beneath a hood, all but his mouth and chin shadowed. Without conscious effort, Quyn glanced down and realized that her blaster was trained on the sudden entrant to their conversation. “Easy girl,” a cool, calculating voice said. “We are of the same purpose here.” She measured him up – the dark garb and almost hypnotizing tone. “My purpose will never be shared with the Sith.” “Sith?” The Force wielder snorted with amusement. “I think not.” Pulling back his hood, the Jedi flashed a face of olive skin, a long scar running from beneath one of his deep, forest green eyes across his cheek. Begrudgingly, Quyn lowered the blaster, eyes shifting back to Traek and noting the flare of recognition and exasperation in the Toydarian’s gaze. “Surely this little one isn’t worth your trouble, Traek? Why not simply answer her questions and be done with it?” “Kell Malo…why are you back? I thought I was clear yesterday.” Traek poked the vibro-blade in the Jedi’s direction, accentuating each syllable with a nudge of the blade. “You don’t want to point that at me,” Kell warned gravely, his hand moving subtly beneath his robes. “What did I tell you about Jedi mind tricks?” Traek asked with a snide chuckle. “Oh, I remember,” Kell replied with a sinister grin. His lightsaber emerged from beneath his robe, humming to life with a crackle of force crystal energy. The blade burned of a dark hue that Quyn had never seen before, the core pulsing with darkness, enveloped in a glow of dulled bronze and sheens of silver. With another flash of movement the saber cut upward in a long arc, severing the steel bar in two, metal screaming and sparks flying. With a swift kick of his boot, Kell sent the stool flying out from under the Toydarian, his free hand grabbing for Traek’s throat as he fell, wings beginning to react to the sudden tug of gravity. The vibro-blade fumbled from his hands, and Traek sputtered and gasped as he hung aloft from the Jedi’s outstretched arm. “When I set you down I expect that you will act like a gentleman and answer Miss Vigil’s question?” Traek jerked his head up and down in eager affirmation. With his feet firmly back on solid ground, Traek muttered a curse at the Jedi and smuggler. Kell’s narrowing eyes urged him to speak. “Colton’s Padawan…this Tormax fellow. Word has it he plans to raid the Coronet City municipal complex. The fools are walking into a trap.” Quyn and Kell’s eyes met in a sudden rush of shared apprehension. “What do you say little one?” The Jedi asked with a wry smile. “Don’t call me that,” Quyn growled. But she tempered her anger in the face of Kell’s unyielding grin. “We could try to intercept them.” Kell nodded - a simple answer for a perfectly simplistic plan. “Fools! What makes you think you can leave this place?” Traek was frothing mad, and he motioned toward the main floor of the bar. The degenerate gathering of patrons had turned their full attention on the Jedi and smuggler at the bar, dozens of blasters aimed their way. “Careful Traek,” Kell warned with deadly seriousness, sweeping his lightsaber in a slow, wide arc across the breadth of the Unknown Odds. “I will cut you and everyone who stands in our way down without regard.” Quyn flashed a look of surprise toward her dark companion. “What kind of Jedi are you?” “The expelled kind,” Kell answered bluntly. “But we can discuss that and your Force sensitivity later.” Quyn’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “But for now we need to concern ourselves with fighting clear of this place.” “Wait!” She barked with a huff of exasperation. “You just need to know how to deal with Coronet degenerate types.” From under her cloak, she unlatched a spherical object from her utility belt. Stepping in front of the Jedi Knight, she held the shiny object aloft, making sure their assailants could clearly make it out. “You all know what a thermal detonator is.” She depressed the trigger button. “My Jedi friend and I are walking out of here. I suggest you clear us a path.” Rhe saga continues... Chapter One - Part 6